


Problem?

by mandysimo13



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crack, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, gum sharing, they're disgusting, truly atrocious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6271402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tumblr prompt based on the idea that John and Sherlock are a gross couple who share gum.</p><p>http://watsonshoneybee.tumblr.com/post/141061736924/teapotsubtext-johnlockfu-watsonsmokes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problem?

It had been three weeks since John had finally, _finally,_ made his move and had done something about his feelings for Sherlock. It had happened just like he had always pictured it would happen; giggling like loons after ridiculous chase through London in the hall just inside their door. Moments like that had happened far too many times before, the tension of “almost something” stretching into the disappointing lull of “missed opportunity”. The only difference was that John had had enough of too many missed opportunities and took a gamble and kissed Sherlock.

That first kiss had stunned Sherlock for just long enough for John to doubt that he had done the right thing. But in the next heartbeat Sherlock had clutched John’s head between his hands and became a very active participant. One kiss turned into two. Two turned into John getting pressed into the wall for several minutes. That lead to John dragging Sherlock up the stairs enthusiastically where they eventually collapsed into Sherlock’s bed and gave over to all temptation to explore each other the way they had always wanted.

John spent the next two days in Sherlock’s room, and every night since then. Aside from the near constant pawing on each other, everything in Baker Street was as it ever was.

John took a few shifts at the clinic and Sherlock did he experiments and played his violin. John bought the milk and Sherlock blew up their microwave, the third replacement since John moved in. They would bicker and snipe but instead of their arguments turning into a mutual huff and retreat to separate corners they would cleave to each other and work out their frustrations in the form of kisses, love bites and shared orgasms. Every look, every casual touch sparked a flame in them both that would rage until it ended with them both panting with frantic need then satisfied release.

If they were looking in on any other couple they might think it disgusting. And it was. But to them it was shameless bliss and they were riding the high as long as they possibly could before the real world decided to settle over them.

It took three weeks.

Lestrade phoned them while they were snogging in the bathroom, John’s toothbrushing regimen ignored for the moment as Sherlock pressed him against the sink while they kissed. Sherlock groaned in disappointment into John’s mouth. The doctor grinned and pushed him gently off, snatching up his toothbrush again. “That’s Lestrade ringer, could be a murder.”

“It better be,” Sherlock growled, hitting the accept button more aggressively than necessary. “This better be good, Gavin,” he snapped. John listened, brushing his teeth, while Sherlock silently listened to Lestrade lay out what was waiting for them. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

John wiped his mouth on a hand towel and turned around to face Sherlock. “Case on, then?”

“Obviously,” he said with a pout.

John chuckled and ushered him out of the bathroom. “Just think, the sooner you solve it the sooner we’ll be back here snogging to your heart’s content.”

Sherlock scowled. “It’s barely a six.”

“And yet,” John said, lacing up his shoes, “you’re still going because you haven’t left this flat in three weeks and some fresh air and a puzzle will do you some good.” He looked at the space their microwave used to occupy. “Just think, if he had called two days ago we would still have a microwave.”

“Unlikely,” Sherlock replied, swinging his coat on.

Together they bounded down the stairs and then into a cab. Sherlock gave the address to the cabbie and sat back, eyes out the window and fingers drumming his knee. The sound of crinkling attracted his attention back to John. Seeing what John in his hands made him smile in curiosity. “Are you chewing gum?”

John, holding the piece between his finger and thumb said, “I’m about to. Why? Did you want some?”

Sherlock eyed the piece of gum and said, “if you’ve got some.”

John popped the piece into his mouth and dug in his pocket in search of more. “Sorry love, last piece.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Typical.” He scowled out the window then said under his breath, “dirty habit anyway.”

They arrived to the crime scene not much later. The scene was a house with a yard covered in Yarders and police tape as usual and Sherlock and John entered the scene in search of Lestrade. Sherlock barked out orders for people to leave, to not touch anything, asking for Lestrade and all the other usual irritated buzzing he did before he settled into a crime scene. Lestrade led them to the body and explained the case.

John listened intently, eyeing the body while he chewed his gum. He blew a big, green bubble and it popped loudly, briefly catching the detectives’ attention. “Sorry, force of habit,” John said, endeavoring not to pop his gum anymore.

It took Sherlock two minutes to suss out that it had been poison, brother, over money, blah blah blah. “Really, even Anderson could have figured this one out! Did you call me just to interrupt-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something more important than a person being murdered,” Lestrade asked sarcastically. “My apologies.”

“Aw, don’t be sore, Greg.” John smiled at him calmly and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s just mad that you called while we were having a moment.”

“A moment? What kind of moment,” Lestrade asked.

“I’m sure you’re clever enough to deduce well enough what you interrupted,” Sherlock snapped, stalking off.

Lestrade’s mouth gaped open and he stared after Sherlock. When he was gone the DI turned to John and asked, “are you two a thing now?”

John blushed, grinning, “yeah. Yeah, I guess we are.” He scrubbed the back of his head, embarrassed that it came out while Sherlock was in a tiff.

Lestrade clapped him on the back and said, “‘bout bloody time.”

“Thanks.” John stepped off in the direction Sherlock went, “let me go fetch him back before he does something dumb.”

He found him in the victim’s bathroom, breathing deeply and trying to collect himself. John closed the door quietly behind him. Taking the three steps necessary to put him against Sherlock’s back he wrapped his arms around the sullen detective and rested his cheek against his shoulder. “You were very rude to Greg just now,” he scolded without any real heat.

“I know,” Sherlock said, irritated.

“You should go apologize before he decides to lose your number,” he joked. He got a huff in reply. They stood there quietly for a moment and then John said with a chuckle, “you like kissing me don’t you?”

Sherlock said with a smile, “of course, John.”

“More than a gory murder,” John asked teasingly.

Sherlock sniffed in amusement. “That was hardly gory. Couple of bleeding orifices. Not even a dismemberment,” he said with a pout.

John smiled and kissed his shoulder. “You still solved it. Brilliant as usual.”

Sherlock turned in his arms and smiled sheepishly, ducking his head. “You think I’m brilliant,” he said softly.

John smiled, “you know I do, don’t go fishing for compliments now.”

Sherlock smiled in earnest and leaned in to kiss him. It was a sweet kiss at first, all chaste pressing and holding each other close. Then John whispered, “brilliant, so clever,” to Sherlock and then the detective groaned, parting his lips in wanting. The kiss grew hot, hands roaming everywhere and all teeth and tongue and they soon forgot they were in the bathroom at a crime scene.

“You taste like mint,” Sherlock said absentmindedly.

“Problem?,” John asked.

“None,” Sherlock replied, pressing John into the door.

Seconds later Lestrade rapped at the door startling them both. “Oi! Look, I’m happy for you two but could you please not do this here?”

The pair giggled at having been caught like school children. They moved the necessary inches apart to right their clothing and exit the bathroom. As they walked out Sherlock blew a bubble gum bubble, smiling at his good fortune. True, it was only a six, not even a gory one, but it was solved and John liked him and had kissed him and life was good. Hell, he had even gotten some gum after all.

“Sherlock,” Lestrade asked, confusion evident in his voice. He faced him with a smile, “yes, Lestrade?”

“Wasn’t John the one who had gum? Before?”

Sherlock grinned at him wickedly. “How observant of you. Yes, John had the gum first and then we kissed and now I have it.” He popped another bubble and asked, “problem?” John snickered behind him and Sherlock couldn’t help but grin wider.

Lestrade gave them a horrified look, “the pair of you are disgusting.” He shooed them out of the house, “now get out of my crime scene.” They could barely make it to the cab without breaking down into uncontrollable laughter.

Lestrade fought the urge to scrub his eyes with bleach. Even if he was happy for them, some things could never be unseen.


End file.
